Breathe, Chosen Hearts Series S6
by HDorothy
Summary: There's more to Jack and Sam's bets than meets the eye, and it has nothing to do with cake.


Title: Breathe - Chosen Hearts Series – S6

Author: HDorothy aka HailDorothy (same)

Warning: Usual SG-1 language, mild sexual content

Category: Romance, humor

Pairing: Jack and Sam

Season: 6

Spoilers: Not a one

Rating: K

Summary: There's more to Jack and Sam's bets than meets the eye.

File size: 33KB

Archive: Jackfic, GateWorld, Heliopolis, SamandJack, FanFiction

Series Summary: This is an established storyline in which Jack and Sam fell in love during Jack's first retirement. When Jack is re-commissioned and Sam inadvertently assigned his subordinate, they pretend to be strangers and put their wannabe lovers relationship on hold. Little do they realize it will not be a matter of months, but years, before they can follow through on the desire of their chosen hearts.

Beta thanks: Thanks Susie B. You are the greatest!

Disclaimer: All publicity recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Copyright: The original characters, situations, and story are the property of said author. HailDorothy ©

Feedback: Gosh, darn, don't make me beg! Pretty Please? Starvation of this writer's muse is no pleasant sight. All feedback is food for thought and well digested. "Feed me, Seymour!" (The Little Shop of Horrors)

**DON'T FOGET TO BREATHE . . . .**

Inhale.

Exhale.

Breathe!

Man, it's like sucking water through a straw with a hole in it! Can't explain it. Oh, you can, but most people won't understand your scientific babbling, except him. He's smarter than he acts. His deep chocolate eyes are riveted on you with such intimate intensity that you must remember to . . .

Inhale.

Exhale.

Breathe!

Your chest burns from the stretch between each breath. He tilts his silver head and those kissable dimples tuck so far into his rugged tanned face, you want to crawl inside them.

Chocolate cake eyes.

"Carter?"

"Huh?" Oxygen deprivation? He wags his dark brows, which causes further stimulation to your flighty hormones. Even after six years you still don't get it. Where are we?

"It's base," he mutters to your non-verbal question.

But, which one?

Chocolate cake eyes.

Inhale.

"Your turn, Major."

You shift awkwardly and your brows arch with concentration.

Darn! With his blue-shadowed chin supported by a splayed hand, he's grinning in that naughty way that makes your belly quiver and shreds your Carter kick butt willpower.

Exactly, what he's counting on.

You glance about the familiar surroundings and decide yeah, it's safe to breathe.

Exhale.

"What?" His pet word squirms pass your lips.

"Ya know."

"No, sir?"

His shoulder nudges yours.

On purpose.

"Whatever." He turns into you, his large hand hovering over his objective and then his left thigh presses yours while his piercing weapon inches closer.

Is it ethical for him to do that . . . here? There are at least a dozen occupants, hopefully, not focused on the two of you.

"You're cheating." You force out with a distinct gulp.

"It's called strategy, Carter." He winks and knows you refer to his touching you. "Winner takes all."

"In your dreams, sir."

"Well there's that." His mischievous smile broadens as his cryptic remark registers.

Breathe.

You refocus on the chocolate objective and adjust your hips putting distance between his warm thigh and yours. His face scrunches at your unexpected maneuver, but he doesn't fold, especially on a bet. Slowly, deliberately you raise the object of his desire to your lips. It's a lot bigger than you expected, but you manage to shove it inside and close your mouth around it without gagging.

You win!

He gasps.

He can't believe you've done this to him.

"Umm, yummy," you say around the mouthful. You hadn't anticipated it to taste this sweet. You relish the unbelievable velvet smooth texture while holding the desperate glazed look in his eyes.

Holy Hannah!

He's going to lose it!

His tongue lashes into the corner of your lips licking up the last remnant. Red heat spikes up your neck to the tip of your nose. You can't believe he did that . . .here . . .in the commissary! You dare not look around, dare not discover he—you got caught in the act.

Inhale.

"Sweet!" Confident he wasn't caught, his fork clanks alongside yours on the plate. He smirks, drags his tongue along his lips and then back into his mouth. "Ah, good to the last lick," he states roguishly. "And you owe me a ten spot, Carter."

Still blushing, you don't chance a look at him but extract a crumpled ten-dollar bill from your pocket and toss it on the plate. You won't argue with his royal smugness. After all, the verbal bet was, who could devour the last frosted crumb of an entire double-chocolate cake. Man, oh man, you hadn't counted on his last strategic O'Neill tactic. Dang his warped mind.

Exhale.

You make another mistake. You look at him. He's no longer smiling. He's donned his patented deadpan mask that speaks volumes more, at least to you, then when he grins or frowns.

Breathe!

Sighing, you go for his eyes.

Exactly what he wants.

Air hitches in your throat.

Your belly tingles.

Deliberately, your tongue flicks and then lingers in the bow of your mouth that he just licked and you taste him. Wow!

It happens.

He can't breathe.

His priceless '_Oh duh,_' expression makes your day.

Maintaining your seductive spell over him, you take back your ten spot.

You've won!

Coz, the bet never was about cake.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Breathe!

**Fin**

Gotcha! Hope you enjoyed this betting humor between our favorite couple.

Please read the **Chosen Hearts Series** by season, right through to the future and beyond.


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